


Making Amends

by ams75



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Gen, RipFic, Time Bureau, post 3x05 speculative fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 12:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12887847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ams75/pseuds/ams75
Summary: The tribunal has set Director Rip Hunter free and he's back at work in the Time Bureau.  Having nothing better to do while waiting, he's been talking to their psychiatrist, who has recommended he make amends with those closest to him.





	Making Amends

**Author's Note:**

> Dr. Landry De La Cruz was a character in the first season of NBC's "The Night Shift". Drogna added her to the Time Bureau fic she wrote, so I've borrowed her for this. Mentioned but doesn't appear.
> 
> Thank you, Drogna, for the edit! Any remaining mistakes are mine.

"It took them far too long to release you, Director Hunter."  
  
Even if the tone wasn't especially warm, the voice over the comm was welcome. "There were a few problems assembling the tribunal. However, now that it has been convened and I have been released, I am free to continue our conversations." Well, perhaps not free, he doubted very much that daily contact with Gideon would be ignored by the Directors and he would face severe reprimands.  
  
"And if I don't wish to?"  
  
His throat constricted. He had never once considered that option. "It is entirely up to you, of course, Gideon."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You weren't very friendly the last time you were on board the Waverider. Or at all."  
  
Was she pouting? Upset? "You're right. I apologise."  
  
"That is not very convincing."  
  
"Would you like it in person?" he asked, instantly regretting it. The Directors were not going to be happy that he was breaking one of their biggest conditions so soon. Then again, he did owe Gideon a sincere apology and if she wanted him near her, he couldn't refuse.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"All right. Is--"  
  
"No-one has been allowed in your quarters since you were last there."  
  
"Thank you, Gideon. The door is locked?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"It's almost lunchtime here; what time is it there?"  
  
"Two in the morning."  
  
"Mmmm. Will you... 'help' the restless insomniacs? If you think it's for the best my visit goes unknown."  
  
"I will and I do." She sounded notably happier and he allowed a tiny smile to grace his lips before it disappeared.  
  
"All right, I'll be there in half an hour."  
  
The signal cut out, and Rip leaned down and rested his forehead against his crossed arms for a moment. He asked himself: what have I done? He sat back up as he counted to three, the number of his most important relationships. Two of them, he could do nothing about; his mother was gone and his family...  
  
All that remained was Gideon. He was damned if he was going to lose her. She had never blindly agreed with him on everything and over the years, he had come to appreciate it. He needed her input and guidance and yes, friendship, more than he ever had before.  
  
He stood up and straightened his suit, then walked over to his window and closed the blinds. If he needed to make a quick return to his office, he didn't want prying eyes. He covered the last couple of steps to his door and opened it.  
  
There was an ugly surprise waiting for him, although, really, he should have expected it.  
  
"Hello, Agent Sharpe," he said, still hoping to escape, but she blocked him, seemingly without meaning to.  
  
"Director Hunter," she said deferentially. She remained where she was, stopping him from leaving. Was it deliberate? "I was hoping we could talk."  
  
"Later," he said, dismissively and saw his mistake. "I have a few errands to run. We could talk over dinner tonight, a working dinner." He didn't want her to feel too comfortable.  
  
"Sir, it's important."  
  
"It always is. Can it wait until six o'clock?"  
  
"I--"  
  
"Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take advantage of this weather and enjoy myself."  
  
"But it's pouring outside, sir."  
  
"Exactly. Londoner. I've missed this kind of weather." She stepped to the side and he moved forward quickly. "Tonight, Agent Sharpe."  
  
The elevator doors opened and he stepped inside. He had decided it would be best to avoid the Bureau's security cameras when he took his little trip.  
  
**********  
  
Briskly, he stepped out of the building and headed towards his favourite ersatz pub. It was dark, which would suit his purpose. He would step into the bathroom, wait for it to be empty, then use his Time Courier to step into his, well, what had been his room on the Waverider. The now lightly falling rain didn't bother him as he walked south a couple of city blocks. He actually had missed the weather while he had been basically under house arrest for a few weeks. Heat, cold, sunshine, rain; didn't matter which it was, he revelled in its ever-changing nature. The chance to stretch his legs felt good and he was tempted to just keep walking, but no. Gideon was waiting for him and he had disappointed her enough.  
  
The Fox & Fiddle was located down a flight of stairs outside an office building and he hurried down them. He opened the door and made a beeline to the gents’ room. One waitress was busy taking someone's order and the other was headed into the kitchen. No-one was behind the bar at this moment. He made his way unseen to the toilets and, for once, luck was on his side: it was empty. One step, he was headed towards a stall; the next, he was a step closer to the bed Gideon claimed he had never used enough.  
  
"Hello?" It came out quieter than expected.  
  
"Director Hunter, if you will proceed to the galley, you will find the lunch I prepared for you. Everyone is asleep, so your presence won't be noticed."  
  
Some things never changed.  
  
"Is that wise? I thought after I left I'd--"  
  
"Director!" She sounded upset to his ears, so he unlocked the door and opened it, then quietly made his way to the galley. It felt eerily empty. He walked in quickly and she directed him to the oven, where it was being kept warm. Putting on the oven mitts, next he pulled out the plate, laden with bacon, a couple of eggs, toast, sausage and even two slices of French toast.  
  
"Gideon," he said fondly, even as he gazed in dismay at all the food. He'd never finish it all.  
  
"You may bring it back to your room," she said, and he nodded, hurrying back after he'd snagged a ginger beer to wash it down.  
  
He walked over to his chair and sat carefully, not wanting to spill anything. "I can't believe you're wasting what time we have on this."  
  
"How is this a waste of time?" she asked, quietly.  
  
"I was told I'd have to talk and make amends and--" He glanced down at the food, then back up to the speaker and smiled slightly. "Oh."  
  
"Director?"  
  
"You've already forgiven me," he said softly. "You're not supposed to make it easy on me, Gideon. This is supposed to be difficult."  
  
"Would you like me to?" Her tone was teasing.  
  
"If I was a better man, I'd say yes, but I'm not."  
  
"Director, you are the finest, and at times, the most infuriating person I know."  
  
"I don't know what to say."  
  
"Good. Remember that and talk to me more often, particularly when you don't want to and think you are protecting me and others by not telling us what is going on."  
  
He hadn't expected that, and it took his breath away, as if he'd been punched in the gut.  
  
"Captain," she said quietly, and he couldn't help but notice her change of title, which felt strange to hear after all this time. "I'm not asking you to give up all your secrets. Just try to be a little bit more open to me."  
  
He nodded slightly. Realizing she might not have registered the gesture, he cleared his throat.  
  
"And if, when, I fail?" he asked, his voice rough.  
  
"I will remind you to do better."  
  
"All right. I will try."  
  
"What are your plans for Mallus?"  
  
**********  
  
She had given him a lot to think about, he mused as he finished his now cold French toast.  
  
"You had some good ideas," he admitted as he stood up. "Everyone still asleep?"  
  
Almost as if she'd read his mind, the door opened. He picked up his dirty plate, knife and fork and brought them to the galley, where Gideon would clean them. "I'd better return to work; don't want to be late on my first day back, do I?" He raised his wrist and summoned the portal doorway.  
  
Or rather, he tried. It failed to appear.  
  
"Oh dear."  
  
"Director?"  
  
"They seem to have given me a defective Time Courier." Defective his... He had no doubt at all it had been deliberate, and they were just waiting to answer his distress call and possibly march him right back to jail.  
  
"Director, if I may make a suggestion--"  
  
"I was hoping you would."  
  
"I could land inside the Time Bureau and you could disembark."  
  
"I doubt that would do much for my popularity there," he said. "There is, however, a handy building you could land on, and is only a few minutes walk from there."  
  
"Camouflaged?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"If you will supply the co-ordinates--"  
  
He rattled off the longitude and latitude. "Land as close to the door on the roof as possible."  
  
"Of course."  
  
He felt the engines hum to life. "I may not be able to contact you for a while, but as soon as I am able, I will."  
  
"Shouldn't you remain on board in that event?"  
  
"You know what has to happen right now. It will be better accomplished if I'm at the Bureau for now."  
  
"Be careful."  
  
He almost smiled. "You as well. Look after them."  
  
"I suggest you hurry to the cargo bay, we're almost there."  
  
He walked quickly and felt the ship land. The cargo bay door opened and the ramp lowered to the roof. He almost ran down it. He heard the ramp fold and return to its usual position and the cargo bay door close. It was the work of a minute to open the access door on the roof and slip inside. He walked down a couple of flights of stairs then exited into the hallway and took the elevator to the ground floor.  
  
He was now north of the Bureau when he should have been south of it but that was easily fixed. A side street here, a main road there, walk past where the Bureau would be, cut back to the main thoroughfare and...  
  
He thought he was home free.  
  
When he stepped inside the Time Bureau, he realized how wrong he'd been. He hadn't even taken three steps when security guards poured out, guns raised, all aiming for him.  
  
Annoyed, and possibly a little scared, although he'd never admit it, especially not to himself, he finished his step and demanded: "What is the meaning of this?"  
  
"You are to be detained until the other Directors are ready to deal with you, sir." The last word dripped with sarcasm.  
  
"Then I'll just wait in my office, shall I?" Disdain coated the words, rage boiled unseen, beneath. "Unless it's been turned into a broom closet." He was only a few steps away from the elevator, assuming his key card still worked, which, come to think of it, it probably didn't.  
  
He took a step towards it, and the guns, which had slightly drooped, were raised again alarmingly quickly.  
  
"Don't bother. If you were going to shoot me, you would have done so already. However, if you must, you may escort me to my office. No doubt anything useful has been cleared out." Another short step gained, but for what? If the key card was deactivated...  
  
He was saved from finding out by the arrival of Director Wilbur Bennett, on whose face sadness and deep disappointment warred.  
  
"What is going on, Wilbur?" Rip demanded, fighting down the increasing panic to flee. If he managed to talk his way out of being locked up but was barred from the Time Bureau, what then? Finding Mallus would be...  
  
"Where did you go, Mr. Hunter?"  
  
"Why?" Rapidly, he weighed his options. The entire truth was out, of course. None of them believed him about Mallus and he simply hadn't found enough proof of what he knew, deep in his bones, of how close the world and all of time was to being annihilated.  
  
"Answer the question, Mr. Hunter."  
  
He resisted the urge to look at the security camera. "Or what? You'll lock me up for daring to leave this building?"  
  
Sadness was beginning to win the battle.  
  
"I was invited to lunch. It was an offer I couldn't refuse."  
  
The security guard whispered something in Director Bennett's ear. "None of your screw-ups have been reported in the area. I doubt we would have missed that disturbance."  
  
Bollocks. He'd been tracked by all the security cameras in the building and out in the city at large. "They weren't here. Gideon invited me, and I accepted."  
  
"Gideon?"  
  
"My oldest and best friend. As you're no doubt aware, Doctor De La Cruz and I... chatted... several times while I... waited. She advised me to make amends with those whom I hurt the most. Gideon was top of my list."  
  
"I find that hard to believe."  
  
"What? That I have friends or that one of them is an A.I.?"  
  
The pause lasted so long that Rip expected Director Bennett to say both. "The latter."  
  
"You knew when you signed on here that I'm a time traveller, surely you didn't believe I'm from this century?" Truthfully, Rip had no idea what century he was from, his earliest memories were as a very young boy, living on the street. Then came... well, Mary Xavier, who had asked all of her orphans to call her Mother, and had been the best thing about his life for a while. "Captain Eve..." He clenched his jaw shut, of course she was no longer a Captain, the Time Masters and all they stood for, and their corruption had been destroyed by him. Them. The Legends, as he had fondly called them, once upon a time. "Special Agent Baxter is... aware... of my... bond, I suppose you could call it, with Gideon. You could ask her."  
  
"She's already told us. Frankly, I find it hard to believe."  
  
"That's your problem." Rip retorted. "I'm fulfilling the conditions of my release." Which had boiled down to: drop the ridiculous chase after a non-existent threat to the world, well, the universe.  
  
"I'd like to talk to Gideon," Wilbur said. Skepticism and scorn marred his face; hadn't he believed Special Agent Baxter?  
  
Eyes burning with barely concealed rage, Rip said flatly, "Go to hell, Director Bennett."  
  
As one, the lowered guns snapped back up, aiming at his heart.  
  
A portal doorway opened, and he could see the bridge of the Waverider.  
  
"Ms. Johnson, Mr. Dorn, please make sure Mr. Hunter," already tried and found guilty, he thought bitterly, "follows behind me. I want to hear what this Gideon has to say." Director Bennett walked through the portal and Rip marched stiffly behind him.  
  
As he stepped onto the bridge of the Waverider, he spotted the team in their early morning, before breakfast garb. Bloody marvellous.  
  
"What the hell," Sara said as Rip aimed his eyes up to the ceiling, "are you doing on my... our ship? I thought we had a deal?"  
  
Miss Lance was going to regret those words. Rip had learned the ship was Gideon's early on in his partnership with her. She would not take kindly to that statement. Before he could say anything, she appeared.  
  
"Director Hunter? Are these men bothering you?"  
  
He was tempted to say “yes”, just to watch how quickly she would disarm them. "Director Bennett has a few questions for you, about our lunch."  
  
"Your lunch?" Sara echoed. "The hell? You were here and I wasn't informed?" He wasn't surprised when she grabbed a lapel of his suit, to try to force his attention on her or some such nonsense.  
  
"You will unhand Director Hunter at once, Captain Lance! I invited him and he accepted." Sara continued to hold on. "Unless you prefer to return home, that is."  
  
"You can't do that! I'm Captain!"  
  
"And I control the ship."  
  
Reluctantly, and with more force than necessary, she released him. He didn't deign to react to his sudden, albeit limited, freedom.  
  
"You invited Director Hunter?" Director Bennett asked.  
  
"Director Hunter, do you wish me to answer his questions?" Gideon asked, ignoring him.  
  
"We have nothing to hide, Gideon," Rip said, blandly.  
  
Noticeably grumpy, she replied to the Director, "I did."  
  
"Why was that?"  
  
"He wished to apologise, I wanted him here to say the words."  
  
"What did he say?"  
  
"Do you want me to play the recording I made of our conversation, Director Hunter?"  
  
His heart raced, and white noise filled his suddenly light head. Distantly, he heard himself answer, "Yes, that would be helpful." He hadn't realised she had recorded them.  
  
It began normally enough and when Gideon had told him to go to the galley, Ray exclaimed, "I knew it! Didn't I tell you there were more dishes there?"  
  
"Shut up, Haircut," said Mick Rory.  
  
The next bit played out as expected but when they reached:  
  
"If I was a better man, I'd say yes, but I'm not."  
  
"Director, you are the finest, and at times, the most infuriating person I know."  
  
"I don't know what to say."  
  
Rip heard the conversation change. "Thank me and eat up. No-one knows how to look after you the way I do." It was strange to hear his happy agreement. It reminded him of a long-ago conversation, one he'd had with her before he had told her about Miranda. Of course, she had already known, and had been protecting them, patiently waiting to be told.  
  
The rest of their easy conversation was a mishmash of old ones long forgotten by him. He was jolted from his complacency when he heard himself say, "Oh dear." She played the remainder of their most recent conversation until he'd said, "Land as close to the door on the roof as possible." He heard her agreement and then silence.  
  
When their voices died, Director Bennett asked, "Why didn't you contact us for help?"  
  
"As you heard, I thought it was defective, and I was on the Waverider. Gideon's perfectly capable of seeing I return safely to the Time Bureau."  
  
"Why didn't you return straight to us? Why the circuitous route?"  
  
He made a show of yawning. "I wanted to stretch my legs."  
  
"Director, I'm growing tired of these men," Gideon said in warning.  
  
"As am I, Gideon," Rip admitted. He felt Bennett's intense scrutiny, then the guns were properly secured.  
  
"Give me a heads up the next time you're coming on board," said Sara. He could hear the edge in her voice.  
  
"That's entirely up to Gideon. Get used to unexpected company." He wondered if Gideon would play the undoctored version of their conversation to them, about Mallus.  
  
"I don't like your tone," Dr. Heywood said threateningly.  
  
Rip smirked as Gideon said, "I will have whomever I wish on my ship and whomever doesn't like it will walk home."  
  
The doorway portal opened, and Rip said, "I look forward to your next invitation, Gideon. It was a pleasure to share my time with you."  
  
"And I, you, Director," replied Gideon.  
  
Rip walked jauntily through the doorway and back into the Time Bureau. Director Bennett had preceded him and miraculously, all the guards had melted away. He pulled the useless Time Courier from his wrist and threw it at Bennett, who barely caught it.  
  
"I expect a properly functioning one within the next ten minutes, Wilbur."  
  
Bennett closed the distance between them, then handed him a key card for the elevator. So. His deduction had been correct. He took it without a word and headed to his office and watched as his belongings were returned.  
  
He had just sat down on his chair when Agent Sharpe appeared, a Time Courier held toward him. "Would you rather have an early drink, Director?"  
  
He snapped it in place around his wrist. "You know, I think I would." He stood up and they left his office together.  
  
He was going to have to be extra cautious but surely, he could handle that.  
  
Couldn't he?  
  
THE END

**Author's Note:**

> "Doctor Who" reference - the Fourth Doctor, Tom Baker, drank ginger beer (non-alcoholic) a time or two.
> 
> Fox & Fiddle is in Surrey, B.C., Canada, more than likely a building of its own, not at the bottom of some office building.
> 
> Kudos are cool but comments are love.


End file.
